


Better Choices

by orphan_account



Category: Digimon Adventure tri.
Genre: Advice, Apologies, Atoning, Canon divergence - post Bokura no Mirai, Childhood Trauma, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Growing Up, Love, Moving On, Partnership, Reconciliation, Recovery, Starting Over
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-26
Packaged: 2019-05-28 17:30:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15054230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Daigo and Maki survive, and Maki begins to make amends.





	1. Rescue and Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> There's an unholy mixture of sub and dub names for characters and etc, but eeeeh I'm not fussy about that. It should be tolerable. Pls forgive me.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daigo is rescued, and goes to find Maki.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Baihumon is just a big cat.

* * *

 

The act of dying, it turns out, is more painful than acquiring the wounds that lead to death—or at least, that’s what Daigo thinks when he comes out of the inky darkness of his life’s end and into the proverbial light.

Except, it’s sunlight, and it hurts when he opens his eyes. This is too much like living, like waking up after a long night of work or study or fun. He winces, lifting a hand to block the sun with, and when he opens his eyes again, he sees the bandage wrapped around his upper arm. It’s clean, and the cuts on his hand have scabbed over, long, thin lines running in just about every direction.

He’s supposed to be dead. He knows that as surely as he knows calligraphy and the smooth, rhythmic grace to write every stroke with. He sent Tai back to the Real World, and then he’d fallen and waited for the explosion Yggdrasil’s henchman promised.

“You’re up!” says a familiar voice. “Or awake, at least.”

“Uh… yeah,” Daigo says as he sits up, squinting in the direction of the voice. “Elecmon!” He winces, a dull pain slithering throughout his entire body. Still not awake enough to be so excited, he guesses. “How… how long have I been out?”

“Since before you got here. Hmm.” Elecmon taps one foot a little, balancing the tray he’s carrying so the bowl on it is barely disturbed. “It’s been a full day since you got dropped off.”

“Dropped off?”

“Save the questions for when you’ve had something to eat,” says Elecmon, setting the tray on Daigo’s lap.

Daigo is about to protest, but the look and smell of the soup in front of him sends a sharp pang of hunger through him.

“Almost dying is hard work,” he says.

“And so’s getting better!”

Daigo eats, aware that Elecmon is still there, watching him. Because of the reboot, he’s just a stranger here, and Elecmon has every reason to be suspicious of a human adult in Primary Village. He suspects he’ll only be allowed to stay here until he’s recovered, and then it’s good-bye and go find a way home where you belong. It’ll be hard, but not impossible. For now, though, the important thing is to get strong enough to survive out there for however long it takes him to find a way to his world.

“You’ve gotten taller since the last time I saw you,” says Elecmon.

Daigo stops, spoon halfway back to the bowl for another mouthful, and looks up. Elecmon isn’t frowning at him, and his body isn’t tense. Even his voice sounds calm, like he’s remembering the messy-haired boy from fifteen years ago, goggles hanging loosely around his neck, running around fighting the darkness with Bearmon, the other DigiDestined, and their partners.

Putting down his spoon, Daigo asks, slowly, “You know who I am?”

Elecmon nods. “I probably would’ve figured it out on my own by now. You look the same, just… bigger.”

“I grew up.”

It’s a simple statement, but somehow it sobers him, and Daigo thinks back to the last few weeks, to the day or so that brought him to this moment. Saving Tai, giving the kids the chance not just to save the world but _themselves,_ too—reminding Tai to never forget his dreams, to hold onto what makes him happy, because Daigo has seen what can happen when growing up means giving up.

Maki had given up, given in to the impossible sadness she’d borne for so many years. She’d grown up and turned her back on the past that had so deeply hurt her. If Tai and the others end up losing that much or more, all Daigo wants is for them to keep dreaming, keep truly living—and if he needs to die to ensure a better future for them, then he’s happy to do it. He _did_ do it, or so he thought.

Sighing, he gives the slightest shake of his head. “I missed a lot in one day, didn’t I?”

“Yep.” Elecmon walks closer, smiling wide and serene. “You keep eating, and I’ll tell you the story that your friend told me.”

 

* * *

 

So there’d been the need for a sacrifice.

An hour after Elecmon left to see to the Digimon in his care, Daigo sits on the edge of the bed in silence. Over the years, he’s wondered about what it means to be DigiDestined, to be one of Homeostasis’s chosen. They fight massive evil as young children, without all the information, long before they’re old enough to understand what’s really at stake. Their destiny follows them forever, a heavy burden of knowing they may need to fight again, or a terrible memory of watching someone die so that others can rise beyond the rest and go become beings that are almost gods.

Why were only four chosen, when he’d been a little boy? Why did something so awful have to happen again?

His friend may know, Elecmon told him, but that’s all the information Daigo had gotten out of him about the subject. Every time he asked, Elecmon would just say, “Your friend’ll be here soon.”

It’s been an hour. That’s not very soon, even for someone who considers himself patient.

He stands, testing the strength in his legs. After a few seconds of feeling balanced and steady, he takes a single step. “One step at a time,” he tells himself. “Aim for that chair.” Halfway there, a commotion starts outside, but he ignores it. This is his goal now, and if he can achieve it, then it means he’s better off than he thought.

The cheering outside crests as he grasps the back of the chair, but it barely registers with him. “Hah,” he half laughs, half huffs. “Take _that,_ Yggdrasil.” The Gennai lookalike’s boss gets all the blame here, for the lies he told and the lives he took by proxy.

“Nishijima Daigo,” says a voice that he sometimes hears in his dreams. “Still as strong-willed as ever.”

His eyes shoot wide open. His friend.

“Baihumon?”

Holding onto the chair, he turns towards the door, and a white tiger’s face lowers into view and peers inside.

“I’m glad to see you well,” says Baihumon.

Daigo’s shock melts into a smile. “You, too… partner.”

 

* * *

 

His hold on Baihumon’s fur is firm but careful, and Baihumon’s pace is slow. They head west—Baihumon’s domain—to safety and silence and a safe place to talk.

“I was afraid you’d be Bearmon again,” Daigo tells him, running a hand along the back of Baihumon’s neck. “I was afraid that all we did back then had been undone by the reboot.”

“We were protected,” says Baihumon, and in the blink of an eye, their surroundings change. They are somewhere inaccessible to most, a place of light and calm waters, where a steely grey dominates the landscape without deterring from its beauty. “Some things can’t be undone so easily.”

Daigo scoffs. The reboot had been anything but easy. Maki had spent years trying to figure it out, and she’d needed help to initiate it in the end. “Guess you and I have a different idea of what’s easy.”

“Well… yes.”

Baihumon stops, crouching down, leaning sideways so Daigo can have a less painful way to get down off his back. Then when he’s off, Baihumon lies down, catlike in grace but majestic in bearing. Daigo sits between his forelegs, his back against one of them, leaning into his fur. They may not have seen each other for years, but their bond is still strong. Daigo had missed it far more than he’d realized.

“You saved my life,” he says after a few seconds of peaceful silence.

“Yes, of course,” says Baihumon.

“Why?”

“Because you’re my partner.”

Daigo glances away. “No one was there to save Hime.”

“Himekawa Maki?”

“Yes. She… something happened to her. I think she might be—” _Dead,_ but he can’t say it. When he’d told Tai, he’d said it without saying that word, as if merely speaking it could kill her.

Baihumon is quiet for a while, still and regal, then says, “She’s alive.”

Daigo’s shoulders tense. “How can you be sure?”

“Because her partner is alive.”

“Tapirmon is—”

“The reboot brought him back. I— we’ve been… aware of him, since the reboot.”

“‘Aware of him.’” Daigo’s voice is hard, and unbidden, tears prickle at the back of his eyes. “Why? This is— none of this makes sense. Not you being unaffected by the reboot, not me being alive, not Hime—”

“Daigo.” Baihumon pauses and lowers his head and his voice. “Partner. I know… I’m sad about what happened, too. We all lost a friend. Maki lost so much more. I can’t answer anything about that day because I barely understand it myself. Why us four, and not him? Why the way it was done? We’ve never forgotten him, or Himekawa Maki, or any of you.”

“Small comfort,” Daigo murmurs, but there’s no bitterness in his voice. The press of tears subsides. There’s no need to lash out. “I mean that. I’ve never been able to forget it, and Hime sure hasn’t.”

“If she were dead, Tapirmon would also die.”

The statement settles in Daigo’s mind, but its full meaning doesn’t register until a few seconds later. He draws in a sharp breath, letting it out in a shaky sigh. “That’s why you saved me? Because… because if I died, so would you? You literally can’t live without me.”

Baihumon bends his head low and nuzzles the side of Daigo’s head. “You know that’s not the real reason why, don’t you?”

Shutting his eyes, Daigo puts a hand on Baihumon’s nose. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”

“ _I’m_ sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” Daigo frowns, squeezing his eyes closed tight until he sees lights behind his eyelids. “You didn’t get a choice, either.”

Baihumon hums his assent, motionless under Daigo’s touch. “She’s alive,” he says, his voice a low rumble in his chest. “Just lost. I saved you because I couldn’t bear to let you die, and because you can go find her.”

There’s no question of whether he will or not. Daigo has spent most of his life trying to rescue her. Of course he’ll do it now. He nods and turns to press his forehead against the fur by his partner’s nose. “Come with me.”

“I can’t.”

“Because of who you are. _What_ you are, what you represent here.” It’s not a question, and Baihumon agrees with a small nod. “Then… let me rest here for a while. A few minutes, an hour at most.”

“As long as you need, Daigo.”

“Thank you.” He pulls away and leans back against that big, warm foreleg, curling up into the fur, warm and content like he hasn’t been in years. “For everything, partner. Friend.”

 

* * *

 

Without despair to guide him, Daigo finds his way to the Dark Ocean with his desire to save his friend and with Baihumon’s blessing.

“If anyone can do this,” he’d said as he’d seen Daigo off, “it’s you. Homeostasis may see no need to think of her anymore one way or another, but we do. She is the one not chosen. We wouldn’t _be,_ without her. This is the best we can do for her—this, and to watch over Tapirmon.”

Hope burning in his chest, Daigo had started walking, and before too long, he’d found himself on the gloomy shore where the black, churning waters never know calm.

“I’m going to find you, Hime,” he says, ever holding to his goal, lest this place sap his strength and will. “Hold on.”

 

* * *

 

The desolate, dreary surroundings take their toll, and just as he’s about to sit and rest, Daigo finds a sign. Maki’s agency-issued weapon lies abandoned on the shore, and all around are footprints and drag marks. He picks up the gun, tucks it safely away, and follows the clues in the sand.

They lead him, soon enough, to a building with worn wooden exterior walls, as dreary as the place it stands in. It looks like the kind of place he’d only ever walk into when there’s nowhere else to go—and judging by his brief exploration of the immediate area, it may very well be. Still, it’s shelter, and it’s where Maki may be or certainly was at least in passing, so he nods to himself and walks inside.

It’s no warmer or more welcoming for having indoor lighting. The same grey, flat feeling is present here, maybe worse than outside due to the closed space. Do sad sighs get trapped in here? It sure feels like it, though it looks empty.

“Hime?” he calls, walking past what he assumes is a reception desk. “Hime! Are you here?”

He hears a shuffling overhead and looks up to see one of the ceiling panels get pulled back. A pair of glowing, white eyes peers out from the shadows.

“You lookin’ for someone?” asks the creature looking down on him.

“Yes. A human.”

The glowing eyes narrow. “The battery.”

“Battery?”

“She could power half the Dark Ocean all by herself, you know?”

“Not good,” Daigo murmurs. His gaze hardens, and his resolve is renewed. “She doesn’t belong here. I’m taking her home.”

“Pfffft, good luck, guy. She’s practically dead.”

“Where is she?”

“Down the hall, last door on the right. Be quick about it, I don’t have time to deal with happy visitors.”

The creature swiftly slides the wooden panel back in place, shuffling away in the direction opposite the one Daigo all but runs.

 

* * *

 

She’s easy to find, the only person in a small, drab room, lying flat on her back on a narrow bed off to a corner.

“Hime!”

He crosses the room and kneels by the bed. If she’s heard him, she hasn’t moved, and her gaze remains blank.

“Hime, can you hear me? _Hime—_ ”

“Did it.”

He freezes. It was faint and scratchy, but that’s her voice. She’s awake, conscious, responding. “Hime! Yeah, I did it, I’m here—”

She laughs, a short, hollow chuckle, mouth pulling back in a smile that looks wrong.

“I did it,” she says, staring at the ceiling. “I beat Homeostasis.” She pauses, gives that empty laugh again. “I got Tapirmon back.”

“Oh.”

Sitting back on his legs, Daigo frowns. _Good luck, guy. She’s practically dead._ The creature in the ceiling had been wrong in the literal sense, but this— this is bad. It’s scary, and it takes him back to when the dust had settled after Tapirmon was sacrificed. The two of them had been too young to bear all that loss, and even though he’d just wanted to make her smile, he’d been afraid she’d break.

Clutching the fabric of his pants, he squeezes his eyes shut long enough to hope she hasn’t crossed the point of no return. Then, with a deep breath, he gets up and sits on the edge of the bed, looking right at her. He suppresses a shiver, forces himself to see her not as what she could become—a shell of who she was—but as someone who’s desperately holding on to all she is.

“So the reboot worked,” he says, voice low and soft. “It really did bring him back.”

“Yeah.” She gives that laugh again, sharper. “I knew… there _had_ to be a way.”

“If anyone could find it, it’s you for sure.” He smiles, for her sake, even though all he wants to do is hold her close until she snaps out of this, until they’ve both cried all they need to. “Have you seen him yet?”

“Uh-huh.” Her smile widens, and her eyes glisten in the light from the dirty lightbulb in the middle of the ceiling. “He’ll remember me in time.” Pausing, she nods, tears filling her eyes to the brim. “He will. We’re partners, and I’m never gonna lose him again.”

“I know you won’t. Nothing can stop you when you’re chasing your goals.”

“Not even the gods of the Digital World.”

Maki blinks, spilling tears out of the corners of her eyes. She squeezes her eyes shut and takes a breath, but instead of crying, she laughs. Her shoulders shake with her quiet, deep, maddened giggles, and when it builds to almost cackling, she tips her head back against the flimsy pillow and lets loose her voice.

Tears keep falling from her eyes, and Daigo wipes them away with gentle, steady fingers. He thinks of his calligraphy brushes, of smoothing ink on paper to commit the mundane to memory, to make even scary things beautiful. Seeing her like this—that’s scary; being here with her through it, a silent guardian who will always remember who she is at heart—that’s beautiful, he thinks. Or maybe it’s just that she still is, that he’ll always see her as someone who went from cute to pretty to beautiful as they grew up, and that nothing will ever change that.

“You said,” he begins when she quiets, “he doesn’t remember you?”

She draws in a shuddering breath, holding it as she nods. “The reboot… I should’ve expected that. But he’s back. He’s _alive._ He’s _here,_ Daigo. He came back.”

His name sounds so sweet in her voice. Only something like the reboot could make someone forget the sound of her calling them. He takes her hand, more for his sake than hers—one of them has to stay grounded, and it’s got to be him.

“So you saw each other again.”

She nods, and her cracked smile starts to shrink. “In a field of flowers.”

Nodding once, he gives her hand a little squeeze. He can guess how this story goes, how it ends. It’s what got her here, what drove her to a mental place where she walked into the Dark Ocean like someone going to the park for a stroll.

“He doesn’t know who I am,” she says, her voice breathy as tears fill her eyes again. “But I told him… that I’ll never lose him again.”

How he hates seeing her cry.

“Hime?” He waits, but she stays the way she is, eyes unfocused, hand limp in his. “Hime, please listen to me. Tapirmon isn’t here.”

Instantly, her eyes narrow. “Yes, he is.”

“No, not here.”

“He _is._ I _saw_ him. I _hugged_ him!”

“He’s not in the Dark Ocean!”

She opens her mouth to snap at him, to protest, to fight back somehow, but nothing comes out. He almost apologizes, except what he’s sorry for is not his fault. So he sits there, fingers tight but gentle around her hand, and watches the anger drain out of her face.

He watches tears start to fill her eyes again, and he’s sorry for being their cause.

“As long as you’re here, you’ll never see him again. Hime—”

Pressing his lips together in a thin line, he lets go of her hand, leans over, and takes her carefully by the shoulders.

“We have to go home. We have to get out of here before the darkness swallows us whole. If we stay here, we’re as good as dead, and then everything we’ve been through will’ve been for nothing.”

She sniffles, shaking her head, and he stays where he is and keeps his eyes on hers until finally, she meets his gaze.

“We have to go home,” he tells her again, voice softer, more plaintive. “I won’t force you to come with me, but I’m not leaving without you. So it’s up to you: either we go home, or we die here. Whatever we do, we do it together.”

She shakes her head again, averts her gaze, squeezes her eyes shut as if to block out the world. When she opens them again, he’s still there, patient and steady. He’ll wait for as long as she needs him to.

“I…” she starts, meeting his gaze again. “I didn’t actually win, did I. The reboot… it was pointless.”

“I don’t know.” And that’s the truth. Baihumon told him that everyone got their memories back, Yggdrasil almost got what they wanted, and Meicoomon is dead—but maybe that would’ve happened anyway. At least like this, Tapirmon is alive. “I think it’ll take time before we can decide that.”

“He didn’t tell me Tapirmon wouldn’t remember me.”

“I know. Yggdrasil didn’t care what happened to you.”

“I messed up.” She sighs, closing her eyes. “I should’ve been more careful.”

“What’s done is done. What matters is what you choose to do now.”

“Do I really have a choice?”

The simple question is like a lance through his heart. Fifteen years ago, the choice had been taken from her. But now—

Now is different. Now, it’s just the two of them, with no godlike being to interfere.

“You do this time,” he says, giving a single, firm nod.

“Right,” she breathes.

He pulls back a little but leaves his hands where they are, giving her space while reminding her he’s still here.

How much time really passes, he’s not sure. He listens to their breathing and shuts his eyes halfway, his mind drifting to memories of quiet days in the countryside with his family.

“Let’s go home,” says Maki, soft voice cutting through his almost trance and bringing him back to a present he wouldn’t trade for the world.

Daigo reaches over and brushes the tears off her face with his thumbs. “Okay,” he says, and smiles. “Home it is.”


	2. Road to Recovery

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maki chooses to live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really wanted these relationships to happen. The Chosens all being there for each other, weeps.

* * *

 

Maki shivers in the morning sunlight, even as she squints against the harsh glare off the sidewalk. There’s not as much to do in the agency now, especially for someone who’s been put on disciplinary leave for her indiscretions. She’d taken her sentence, so to speak, with the same steadiness of self she’s always presented to her superiors and coworkers. Why protest what she deserves?

“Maybe you should think of it as a vacation,” Daigo had told her after the hearing. “You could use a break.”

To even her own surprise, all she’d said to him was, “Yeah.”

It’s only been a handful of days since the hearing, still not a week since she and Daigo came back from the Digital World. The persistent chill in her bones tells her that maybe he was right about the Dark Ocean slowly killing her. In this, at least, she really has won—she’s alive, and she’s recovering.

Locked out of the office as she is, all she has to go over are her notes. This isn’t quite the break Daigo had suggested, but without a concrete goal to work towards, Maki is restless. It’s something to do, even though she already knows where she went wrong.

And she did go wrong. She risked lives and memories and whole worlds in her quest to get back what’d been taken from her all those years ago—and there had been the need for a sacrifice once again.

She folds her arms across her chest as she passes construction on her way to the train station. Odaiba is piecing itself back together after the attacks, and Maki is putting her knowledge to use, plugging gaps in the story for the children who suffered in ways that only she and the old group of DigiDestined understand.

 

* * *

 

Tottori is humid when Maki arrives, the air still and stifling. She didn’t _have_ to come here, but like before, if she has it in her mind to do something, she’s going to do it right.

Her phone beeps on the short taxi ride; she flips it open to check, sipping cold water from a bottle. Daigo checks in on her like he always has, but it means more now. Even after all the trouble she caused, after she’d taken his constant presence in her life for granted, he stays at her side. The fact warms her from the inside, chasing out the chill in her bones. Simply thanking him isn’t enough, but that’s all she can do for now once she texts back that she arrived safely.

In a few more minutes, she reaches the old house, and as she gets out of the car, Meiko walks out to meet her, eyes bright despite the unspeakable sadness balled tight in her chest.

Maki smiles for her, the gesture warm with compassion.

Meiko smiles, sweet and shy, and invites her inside.

 

* * *

 

They take tea facing the forest, listening to birds and cicadas sing their summer songs. The usual pleasantries have been exchanged, and now, in the shade of the back porch, Maki breaks the ice on the subject hanging between them.

“I’m sorry about Meicoomon.”

“Oh.” Meiko lowers her gaze and frowns, fingers tightening around her teacup. “Um… thank you.”

Meiko’s loss is so recent that she hasn’t even had time to really grieve yet. Just talking about it hurts—Maki knows that all too well.

And now it’s time to come clean.

“I lost my partner, too.” She’s aware, as she averts her gaze and looks out at the trees, of Meiko lifting her head to watch her; and as much as it makes her palms sweat and her heart pound to reopen this wound, Maki goes on, voice somber and even. She has never rehearsed it, but it’s been her truth for too long not to come easily to words.

“I was in elementary school.” She reaches into her pocket and shows Meiko her Digivice, intact after so many years save for its cracked screen. Tipped towards Meiko, it reflects the sky for Maki to see, and in the clouds the small surface catches, she sees the birth of the Harmonious Ones, and the death she’s watched in her nightmares since. “He was sacrificed so the Dark Masters could be defeated.”

Meiko gives a quiet gasp, and Maki pauses, focused on the in and out of her breath as she remembers that moment. “I didn’t even get to say good-bye.”

“I’m so sorry.”

The raw sincerity in Meiko’s voice slips through the cracks in Maki’s armor. Someone understands her, really and truly. She’s not alone in this anymore, even though it means someone else has lost as much as she did.

“The way it happened—he couldn’t be reborn. So I—” Gripping her Digivice tighter, Maki takes a deep breath. “I spent every day after that searching for a way to bring him back. And I found one: the reboot.”

In her peripheral vision, she sees Meiko’s eyes fly wide open. Maki gives herself a few seconds before she meets her gaze.

“I should’ve known Yggdrasil’s offer to help me came with strings attached. I was just so angry about what happened. I would do _anything_. It was childish, I know that now. I kept thinking I’d grown up, but—”

She sighs, laughing bitterly. “I never wanted anyone to die. I just… I just wanted Tapirmon back. All that said… I hope you can forgive me, but if you can’t, I understand.”

Meiko is silent at first, looking down into her teacup. Maki sets her broken Digivice down between them and turns to watch a butterfly float past, stopping here and there on a flower before moving on. For all that she’s just admitted how much of what happened in the past few weeks was her fault, she feels calm here. Maybe she’ll take trips to the countryside more often. It’ll be something to do until her disciplinary leave ends.

“Did it work?”

Maki looks at Meiko. There are tears in the girl’s eyes, and her brow is knitted from the effort to hold them back, but the hatred Maki expected to see isn’t there.

“I’m sorry?”

“Did it work?” Meiko repeats. “Did you get Tapirmon back?”

Maki shifts in her seat, glancing at her teacup. “He came back,” she says, “but he didn’t know who I am. Who I was. He’d forgotten everything. I should’ve expected—”

“I’m sorry, Hime.”

Now it’s Maki whose eyes fly open. “You… you’re sorry?”

“I might’ve… I don’t know. Maybe, if the same thing’d happened to me, I would’ve… done that, too.” Meiko shuts her eyes tight and shakes her head. “I asked my friends to kill Mei. It’s what we both wanted. And I got to say good-bye to her. We… we were happy with what we chose. But if I hadn’t had that, then I… I don’t know what I would’ve done. I don’t know what happened to Tapirmon, but I know that losing your partner… it’s the worst feeling in the world.”

“Yeah,” Maki breathes. “It really is.”

“I’m… I’m hurt,” says Meiko. “I don’t know if… if you ever really cared about us before now. But I think— I think I can forgive you.”

“I accept that.” Maki gives a quick, deep bow of her head. “Thank you, Meiko.”

“Can— can I ask what happened to Tapirmon?”

“When I was little? Yes.” Maki takes a sip of tea. “Homeostasis sacrificed him so that my friends’ Digimon could become the Harmonious Ones and defeat the Dark Masters. It worked, for a while.”

“It doesn’t sound like it was worth it.”

“I’m not sure it was. But I’m not sure about anything anymore. Meiko—” Maki looks straight into her eyes. “Don’t shut out your friends. Don’t let the anger and sadness consume you. Don’t suffer by yourself. It’s not worth it.” Because, maybe, things would have gone differently if she’d just opened up.

“Okay,” Meiko says, nodding. “I won’t. Thank you.” Putting down her cup, she reaches for the teacup. “More tea?”

Maki nods and gives a little smile. Meiko will be okay.

 

* * *

 

Daigo picks her up from the train station that night, smiling as he holds out a bag to her.

“I got you dinner from that convenience store you really like. Figured you wouldn’t want to make something after such a long day.”

“I can handle heating up leftovers, you know,” she says, but it’s a fake protest as she takes the bag and peers inside.

“I know,” he tells her as he pulls into the main road. “Just wanted to give you a hand.”

“Thank you.” He’s smiling when she looks over at him, like nothing has changed—or like everything has, for the better.

She settles back into her seat, holding the bag firmly, and shuts her eyes against the glow of the setting sun.

 

* * *

 

Yagami Hikari meets her for lunch the next day, Maki’s treat, light fare they can eat while they walk along the waterfront. Maki isn’t hungry, but eating isn’t the point anyway.

“You know why I asked you to meet me today, don’t you,” she begins, glancing at the seagull that flies overhead.

Hikari nods, expression turning serious. “It could be a few things,” she answers, “but I know what I would want to talk about if I were you: Homeostasis.”

“Yes.” Maki gives a long blink. “I apologize, first and foremost. I thought I was protecting you.”

“You didn’t know everything.”

“I thought I did.”

“I mean that you didn’t know they’d possessed me before.”

That’s news to Maki. She stops walking and looks at Hikari. “They had?”

The girl snickers. “I guess you _still_ didn’t know everything.”

“I see,” says Maki. “Then it may not surprise you to hear they did the same to me when I was in the Digital World as a child.”

It’s a lot to throw at Hikari at once, but she takes it well, all things considered, frowning at her food and then out at the ocean, walking up to the railing so the breeze brushes back her hair.

“It’s frightening,” Maki tells her as she comes to stand beside her. “We were losing our battle against the Dark Masters, and Homeostasis decided to intervene.”

“You’re one of the ones they told us about,” Hikari murmurs. “The ones that fought the darkness that came from beyond the Wall of Fire.”

“Yes.”

“But—”

Maki turns her head and looks at Hikari. This girl, she understands better than anyone what it means when Homeostasis seeks someone to be their voice. She knows the weight of being their vessel, and of the things they come to say.

“We opposed Homeostasis,” Hikari says, eyes narrowed and fixed on the waves breaking gently below the railing. “They talked like there was no other way, but we found another way. Even though I hate it, we found it.” Pausing, she faces Maki, her gaze hard, but not for the woman in front of her.

She’s still hurting from the battles she and her friends fought, and from the would-be gods that toyed with them.

“What did they want from you and your friends?”

Maki gives a slight, bitter laugh. “Everything.” She looks out at the horizon and takes a few seconds just to breathe. “They took my partner and sacrificed him so the others could Digivolve into the Harmonious Ones and defeat the Dark Masters.”

“‘Took.’” Hikari’s voice shakes a little on the word. “They just _took_ your partner? Without asking?”

“Yes.” Maki laughs again, blinking back tears. “And I got to stand there and watch him burn in the light. My destiny…” She shakes her head. “ _His_ destiny. A death he could never come back from. Except—”

Maki manages to fight off the urge to cry, leaving her hollow and cold. The rest, Hikari will figure out on her own. After what she and the others have seen, it’ll be easy to put the pieces together.

“Except if you initiated a reboot,” says Hikari, eyes wide as she watches Maki nod.

“It was all I could think about. Getting Tapirmon back, beating Homeostasis. Proving I could do it without them, that Tapirmon mattered enough to fight for.” Shutting her eyes, Maki listens to the waves and shivers. “I made a mistake, and it fit in with Yggdrasil’s plan, so they strung me along just so they could force a reboot and try and wipe out this world.”

“It didn’t work, did it.”

Maki shakes her head. “All of you suffered because of my choices.”

“Honestly? It sounds like it would’ve happened anyway.”

Another surprise, though Maki should’ve expected it. They are, like her and Daigo, DigiDestined. They’ve been through more than some adults ever will be, and they’re all wiser for it.

“Yggdrasil was aiming for a reboot anyway, so really…” Hikari shrugs. “I’m angrier at Homeostasis than anyone.”

“I’m—” Pressing her lips together, Maki takes a moment to re-sort her thoughts. She isn’t here to seek comfort, though the new perspective does provide her some. She’s here because of her failings, and to set her part in the story straight for the two girls who suffered the way she did so many years ago.

“I’m sorry I lied to you,” she says. “I could’ve been there for you, as a fellow… vessel, I suppose, if I hadn’t been so convinced I had to work with Yggdrasil.”

“Well,” says Hikari, “you can be here for me now.” She smiles, but it’s sad and distant. What’s hurting her like this? She’s almost a complete stranger, but Maki wants to help her out. “I have a lot of questions, you know?”

“I do know. Listen—” Maki’s voice turns firm again, certain. This, she’s sure about. “Contact me whenever you want, or don’t. I’ll be here. I’ll tell you what I know.”

“Okay.” Hikari nods, and her smile brightens. “I will. Thanks.”

“No,” Maki tells her. “Thank _you_.”

 

* * *

 

“Hey, are you okay?” asks Daigo.

“I’m fine,” Maki answers, even as she crosses her arms tight and hunches her shoulders.

The late evening sky is clear, and the air calm, but she is cold enough to shiver in her cardigan. Daigo just got off work and asked her to join him for dinner downtown. She agreed on the condition that she wasn’t hungry, and he’d accepted, saying all he wanted is her company.

She suspects what he really wants is to keep an eye on her, but she doesn’t mind that at all right now.

“You look cold,” he insists.

“I might be a little cold, yes,” she relents. “Let’s just pick up your food go somewhere warmer.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

It’s automatic with him, falling into this easy back and forth, and despite the chill she feels in the air, she starts to untuck her arms a little.

In just minutes, they’re heading back up the street, and she’s peeking into the paper bag he holds proudly in both hands.

“How are you not sick half the time, eating all these pastries and sweet buns?” She shakes her head. “You’re a teacher. You should set a better example.”

“Then help me eat these,” he says, grinning. “Come on, just one. It’ll warm you up!”

“I don’t think it works that way,” she huffs, but even so, she takes the napkin he offers her and takes a pastry.

She doesn’t feel any warmer after eating, but she does feel her shoulders relax as the sky grows dark and they keep on walking. As if he notices, he leads them towards the waterfront, where they can see the construction cranes set up by the bridge, tied up and quiet after a full day’s work.

Yggdrasil’s handiwork, Maki reminds herself. That’s what they’re fixing. Not Meicoomon’s, and not the DigiDestined’s partners’. Her smile, already slight, dims a little.

Stopping beside her, Daigo looks at her and sighs. “Sorry. I thought it’d be too dark to see the cranes by now.”

“It’s fine.” She shrugs. “It’s not like we can pretend it never happened.”

“Still.”

The next few seconds are quiet save for the gentle rippling of the water down below, and the ambient noise of Odaiba’s waking nightlife. It’s been a good evening so far; why let her failure ruin it? If she pulls away again, it’s like Homeostasis won. Worse still, it’s repeating her mistakes. She’s smarter than that now, so instead of trying to ignore the past, she chooses to face it head on.

“Do you think the Harmonious Ones are okay after the reboot?”

Daigo turns to her again, eyebrows arched for only a moment before he frowns and looks out at the water.

“Actually,” he says slowly, “I _know_ they’re okay.”

Now it’s her turn to look at him, wide-eyed and attentive as he tells her his story: how he went looking for her after the reboot, and how he found the DigiDestined instead; how he had a feeling that she was in danger, and how he risked his life to save Tai; how Yggdrasil’s enforcer gave him the chance to save Ken and the others by forfeiting his own life; and how Baihumon rescued him from certain death.

The rest, she knows—he found her, reached through the despair and misery that got her to the Dark Ocean in the first place, and brought her home. Hearing him tell it is surreal, like she’s not the woman he saved, like it was all a fever dream they’d shared and worked their way out of together. It _is_ real, though. It _was_. In spite of fifteen years spent trying to keep her from succumbing to the very darkness that almost killed her, he never gave up.

She shivers in the warm, windless night.

“Hime,” he says, his voice lowering, as if anyone were around to overhear. “There’s… I think there’s a good chance that Tapirmon got his memories back like all the other Digimon did.

“Maybe he didn’t,” he adds quickly, before she can do more than gasp. “Since the way he died was… so different. But it’s possible.”

Squinting out at the water, she pictures it, the reunion she’d been hoping for. Hugs, laughter, tears—partners reunited after being ripped away from each other. Her heart beats faster, and she feels the urge to run, to take Daigo’s hand and tell him they need to go _now_ and find a way back to the Digital World.

Then a car honks its horn a block or so behind them, and reality comes back into focus. Maki sighs, shaking her head, and closes her eyes.

“Maybe you’re right,” she says. “Maybe he remembers me now. But…” Pausing, she turns and looks at Daigo. “I can’t keep chasing maybes. Ever since we came back from the Digital World the first time, that’s all I did, and look what it got us all. Someone else had to die to save the world. More kids were hurt. You and I almost died. I’m sorry for all of it, but that doesn’t change all I helped cause, or heal all the people who got hurt.

“I need to stop, Daigo. I… I need to move on. I need to let go of the past and take hold of the present.” She chuckles, mirthless but not hollow, not bitter. “I’ll probably never know if Tapirmon remembers me, but maybe that’s okay. Maybe that’s for the best.”

Until now, he’s been quiet as he listens, a steady presence keeping her grounded as she starts to feel like she’s really breathing for the first time in years. If he’s always been like this, then she’s the one who preferred the cold and shadows to the warm, steady light he exudes. Well, she won’t walk away from him now.

He quirks his mouth in a small smile. “What happened to not chasing maybes anymore?”

“Right,” she says, laughing—for real this time, little though it lasts. “Thank you. For everything.”

“Aw, come on.” He snickers, his cheeks turning pink as he bows his head a little. “You don’t need to thank me.”

“Yes, I do. All I did before was push you away. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I’m here for you because I want to be. Because I believe you deserve to be happy. We all do.”

“I want to believe that,” she tells him, and as she takes his hand, the chill in her bones lifts away. Her smile turns shy, and her cheeks burn, but she presses on, allowing herself what she’d pushed away, misguided, when she’d wanted to hold it close. “But I’m— I’m gonna need help… partner.”

His smile grows wide, the sun breaking through storm clouds. “Yeah, of course.”

Daigo gives her hand a little squeeze, and Maki slides her fingers between his. Finally, what she’s doing feels right.


End file.
